For readers, writers, and romantics...a place to meet for friends of Heartsong Presents

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Excerpt from In Search of a Memory

Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it. Psalm 34:14

Selection from the story:

“Did I say something wrong?”Before she could respond, the waiter returned to the table with their orders. “If there will be anything else, Mr. Piccoli, please do not hesitate to ask.”“Bring the lady a sandwich as well. I’m sure she must be hungry.”The shock of hearing his name struck Angel like an unexpected dousing of icy water; she couldn’t think to respond or refuse. A kaleidoscope of startling facts twisted inside her mind, making her dizzy. . .Roland Piccoli! Grandson of the notorious gangster, Vittorio Piccoli. . .who dispensed with his enemies as casually as she dispensed with a pair of damaged stockings. No wonder he seemed familiar when she saw him at her aunt’s! His face had been plastered in the society pages a month ago, a blushing debutante on his arm, who the article had said was his fiancée. And Angel had run across his path, not once, but twice. . .Walking twice, into the path of a killer.

Have you ever experienced a situation like his heroine, where you felt afraid in someone's company?

5 comments:

Never when it has been someone I know, but I work at a golf course that is at the end of a dead end road. Occasionally, when I'm in the clubhouse by myself, some really odd people come in. In those cases, I stay near the kitchen (and the phone) until one of my male coworkers comes inside for something.

My mom always taught me not to talk to strangers, but she never explained what a stranger was. So, I talked to anybody and everybody. One time at the park, a man in a black hat started talking to me and my cousin. My cousin got between me and him and maneuvered us back to where our mom's were. I thought she was being so rude, but she told me he was a stranger. So, for years after that, I thought a stranger was a man wearing a black hat.